


Goodbye

by orphan_account



Category: Angel Sanctuary
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-24
Updated: 2011-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-18 15:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy comes home in a very odd mood and Mika is his whipping post, which is meant in a purely figurative way. Poor Lucy is emotionally unbalanced, and to say any more would spoil the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye

The candlelight danced across Kriel's freshly sharpened and polished blade. Michael sighed happily and tossed the shirt he'd torn off and been using as a rag upon entering the room a few hours before. He was in an odd mood, meaning that he had calmed his anger by taking care of his blade while sitting in the chair beside his little used desk instead of blowing the desk, chair, and a few other random pieces of furniture, to bits. His shirt was ruined, but he didn't like that one anyway, and it nowhere near amounted to his usual damage. The fire angel ran the pad of his thumb along the blade to test its strength and licked away the blood that formed there. 

In another part of the large house, a door slammed. Michael flinched at the sudden noise, and then grunted in disgust as he realized what had caused it. Lucifel was home, and he wasn't in a good mood. The fire angel hoped he wouldn't be an outlet for his twin's anger, as he didn't feel like getting into a big, pointless fight with astral powers, and most likely being fucked afterwards. He reflected that, after a couple of centuries of mutual beating and screwing at least twice a week, it made one never want to be in bed with anyone ever again. Raphael had once commented that the only thing his fellow elemental could get off to was killing, and while that wasn't exactly true, it was certainly more appealing than sex. 

A few minutes later, Lucifel burst into the room, not at all the composed self he usually was in public. Likely he had just come home from some big important meeting that Michael probably should have attended, too, but not that he had the slightest clue which one that might be, or cared at all. 

"Why're you still awake?" Lucifel demanded. "It's after midnight, you know, and you  _are_  supposed to be at a council meeting at nine tomorrow with the other elemental angels. Don't tell me you've forgotten." 

Michael had to keep from smirking as he realized exactly what sort of mood his brother was in. On the rare occasion, Lucifel would become not exactly angry, but unbalanced. To Michael, the only one who saw him in this condition, or in any condition besides the mask of perfection he wore around other people, it meant that he could verbally harass his twin without mercy. Lucifel did deserve this, but it was painful to have all his doubts and imperfections smacked in his face. 

The fire angel pasted a look of mock innocence on his face. "Forgotten? Of course not, Mother. I'll get to bed straight away." 

Lucifel ground his teeth. "That's not funny," he snapped. 

Michael rolled his eyes. "When do I  _ever_  go to those meetings?" 

"Maybe you should start," his brother suggested defensively. 

"Maybe you should get out of my room and mind your own fucking business," Michael shot back. "I'm just getting used to my ass not hurting." 

Lucifel winced. He didn't like their 'relationship' talked about, especially not in the fire angel's rude and blunt manner. "I'm not after that," he said. "Not tonight, anyway." 

But the elemental wasn't about to drop the subject that easily. "I wonder," he mused, stretching and twirling Kriel idly, "what all those bigheaded angels you hang out with would say if they knew you habitually fucked your twin brother--" 

"Shut up!" Lucifel shouted, which almost surprised his twin into obeying. Key word, almost. 

Michael merely grinned, hiding his shock. When Lucifel wanted him to shut up, he didn't say so. He smacked him, cut off his air, or threw him across the room. This was a first. "Really," the fire angel said, expression growing darker behind his smile, "what  _would_ they say? You're supposed to be the shining light of heaven, second only to Adam Kadamon, yet you keep committing incest like some sort of Assiahn slut. Incest is a  _sin,_  you know." 

Lucifel's hands twitched. Michael knew he wanted to hit him, but didn't know why he was refraining. "Shut up," he repeated, eyes burning with an anger his brother knew so well, yet no one else even knew existed. 

 _"Make_  me," the fire angel dared, bracing himself for the fight he knew was coming. 

But it didn't. Instead, Lucifel took a few steps forward, leaned down, and kissed him. And kept kissing him. Michael blinked stupidly. It wasn't a fight for dominance, as it always had been before. There was no teeth involved, and Lucifel's tongue was gently raking the inside of his mouth instead of trying to force its way down his throat. He kissed him back, though mostly out of force of habit, feeling that midnight black hair quiver against his face. This was  _nice._  

Recovering himself, Michael raised a foot to his brother's chest and pushed him away, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms moodily. "Ok," he said, "who are you, and what have you done with that two-faced prick who by some cruel twist of fate happens to be my brother?" 

Lucifel moved away, letting Michael's leg drop. For a second it almost looked like he was going to cry, but then his hair swung across his face, leaving it in shadow, and it was impossible to tell. "Is there a problem, Michael?" he asked, voice flat and expressionless 

"You're being nice," the fire angel said, as if it were painfully obvious. 

"Can't I be?" His voice definitely had a note of tears in it. 

Either Michael was too freaked out by the prospect of his brother crying or he simply didn't care, because he plowed ahead mercilessly. "You're  _never_  nice," he told him simply. "It's fucking creepy. And," he added, "after all this time, you still haven't had the decency to tell me who the hell you're practicing for." 

"There isn't anyone else," Lucifel said, for what must have been the ten thousandth time. "I don't fuck anyone besides you, and I don't want to, either." 

"Right," the elemental said, rolling his eyes sceptically. "I bet it's Alexiel. Everyone wants to fuck Alexiel." 

"Where did you here that?" 

Michael still hadn't let go of Kriel's hilt. He spun it in a way that he knew would put a hole in the floor, but didn't care. "Well, there's you," he said, which he knew would piss his twin off, "and, let's see, Uriel, Jibril, Rosiel . . . and Raphael," he added as an afterthought, "but that's not saying much. He does anyone who sits still long enough." 

Lucifel started at the third name. "Rosiel?" he asked. "Um, he's her brother." 

The fire angel smiled wolfishly. "Oh, c'mon, we all know that Rosie wants to bang his sister," he replied in an offhand type way. "I know," he said, feigning interest, "when those two figure it out, we can all be a bunch of sinning incestuous fucks and rebel against heaven together. Whaddya say?" 

"That if there was even the slightest chance you weren't joking, I'd take that idea and run wild with it." Lucifel snapped, sounding angry again. 

Later, Michael realized this should have been an obvious warning sign, but he was feeling too malicious right then to care. "Sorry to break it to ya, Aniki, but you and 'running wild' just don't go together." 

For a minute, there was dead silence, and the fire angel almost thougt his brother would just turn around and stalk out. "You really hate me," Lucifel finally said in a whisper, "don't you?" 

Michael stared.  _Where the hell did_  that  _come from?_  his brain demanded, but he wasn't about to say it out loud. "Well, I do want to shove Kriel here up your ass sometimes," he admitted honestly, "but I want to shove Kriel up Raphael's ass  _all_  the time, so I can't hate you that much, right?" 

Even in the dark, Michael could tell Lucifel was smiling. It wasn't a fake smile, like he showed in public, or when he was in one of his weird, creepy moods, but a real, honest one, which in this case meant he was relieved.   
The fire angel resisted the urge to get up and push the hair away, knowing he would be furious at himself later for even thinking of it. He still wanted to see that smile, from back when they were kids, before the fighting, before the fucking, before the prophecy had ruined their lives. Because if Lucifel just smiled at him like that, and ruffled his hair and called him shorty, it meant everything would be ok, and a part of him still wanted to believe that, as pathetic as he knew it was. 

"When it comes right down to it," the elemental asked, "do you think you could actually kill me?" 

"Yes," Lucifel said, without hesitation, as he was striding forward again to cup Michael's face in his hand and hold it up to the scant light. "Even if it felt like my limbs were being ripped off, and my heart torn out, even if it felt like I was being torn if half, even if I die, which I just might, I could kill you. If . . . if you stood for everything I hated, than maybe for a minute I could forget that I--" He stopped himself, his hand falling quickly back to his side. No, he couldn't say that. If he said it now, he'd lose all resolution, and he had planned this for too long. 

The elemetal didn't try to make his brother finish the sentence. Maybe he didn't want to know, or maybe he thought he did but was scared it would be a lie. "Well, that's good to know," he said briskly. "When I rebel and we have our big, long, drawn-out, prophecized fight, I don't want you acting like a pussy." 

"Who says it's going to be you?" Lucifel couldn't stop himself from asking. 

"I've told you before," Michael said. "They'll fucking drive me to it eventually." 

And Lucifel remembered that the fire angel had told him that before, which was when he had decided-- 

"Anyway," the elemental said, interrupting his thoughts, "not that I don't enjoy this enlightening conversation, but I need to go to bed now. I have a meeting tomorrow morning," he added, grinning. 

Taking the hint, Lucifel left wordlessly. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Some thirty minutes later, Michael was dozing off when he heard the door being opened a crack. It was probably just the servants coming to get the laundry or making sure he hadn't destroyed anything else. Not wanting to talk to them, he pretended to be asleep. 

"Michael?" Lucifel hissed, slipping into the room. "Are you awake?" 

Though fully awake, the fire angel kept his eyes closed. He'd listen to find out what in the hell his brother was doing, and then chuck a pillow at his head and order him out of the room. He made a mental note to keep his door locked from now on. 

However, he wasn't expecting Lucifel to slip in bed next to him. For a second, Michael was livid, thinking he was going to be fucked after all. But Lucifel just draped an arm around him and settled down, apparently trying to go to sleep himself. 

After a minute, the elemental peeked at his brother, who was still just laying there. "What the fuck?" Michael asked, keeping his eyes closed. "Did you wet the bed or something?" 

He held back a smile as Lucifel jumped. "You're awake!" he exclaimed. 

"No I'm not," Michael said, just to be difficult. 

"You're talking," Lucifel pointed out. 

"I'm talking in my sleep." 

"Really?" 

"Yes." 

There was a short silence. Lucifel settled back down. "G'night, shorty," he yawned. 

Michael wanted to smack him. He couldn't say no to that. And he wasn't looking forward to tomorrow, when he would probably wake up to find Lucifel gone, when he knew damn fucking well that the next time he saw him Lucifel would have his mask back on and it would be like nothing had ever happened. You don't love me, he wanted to scream. You don't even fucking like me really, I'm just your fucking toy, and maybe I'm all that keeps you from fucking losing it. But  _I_  love  _him,_  he realized bitterly as he dropped off to sleep. That's why I do this. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Lucifel didn't sleep much that night. He kept still, staring into the darkness, listening to Michael breathe and trying not to think about what he was going to do in a few very short hours. At six, he slipped out of bed and was surprised to see Michael wake up a little. 

"'S still dark," the fire angel grunted. 

"I know," Lucifel said quietly. "Go back to sleep." 

"'K," Michael muttered. "Love you, Aniki." 

Lucifel stared down at him. It was a good thing the elemental's eyes were closed, or he might have seen his brother's expression. "Goodbye, Michael," he said, with a note of finality in his voice that shouldn't have been there, but this also failed to catch the fire angel's attention. 

Lucifel walked straight out of the room, straight out of the house, and straight out of heaven. He never remembered when or if he stopped to wipe the tears off his face. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Michael dragged himself out of bed sometime around noon. He vaguely recalled Lucifel leaving early that morning. Workaholic. 

Once dressed, he came out to breakfast, thinking that he might go to visit Raphael that afternoon. To his surprise, Baru was sitting at the table, nervously fidgeting with the tablecloth. None of the servants that usually served breakfast were to be seen, but a meal was sitting in front of her, untouched. Something wasn't right. 

"Baru?" Michael asked, standing across the table from her. "What's going on here?" 

The woman's gaze flicked to his face quickly, then back down in her lap. "It's Lucifel," she said quietly. 

Suddenly, it hit Michael why none of the other servants were there. He was too fond of Baru to blast her to bits, but no one else wanted to risk it. "What about him?" he forced himself to ask, knowing he wouldn't like the answer. 

"Lucifel has fallen," Baru said, as if she didn't believe it herself. "My God, Michael, they always thought it would be you! He's done it. He's raised an army and rebelled against heaven. I'm so sorry." 

Michael froze, no longer hungry. The bitter taste of betrayal filled his mouth, and he was so fucking angry it was a miracle he didn't burn the entire house down. But he kept himself angry, all through the Great War. It kept out the grief, kept him ready to fight, and kept him from remembering the last thing Lucifel had ever said to him. 

 _Goodbye._


End file.
